Spies Under The Night Skies
by aprettyfacelies
Summary: She blames it all on his smirk and the faint smell of whiskey in the air because she would never consciously kiss a boy who had just seen his girlfriend kiss another guy; she was never that girl.


"Look away from the comic book," the Asian girl whispered out in a rush as her hand hit against his arm, the other tightly grasping a pair of binoculars. "We have movement."

Sam all but throws the latest issue of _The Road to Flashpoint_ to the back seat of his car, grabbing the binoculars from his partner's hand and ignoring her soft cries of disapproval, all of his attention pointed at the sight before him. He isn't sure if he should be happy he was right or if he should be ordering Tina to drive the car as far away from where they were as possible, so he settles for keeping his eyes locked on them with a frown on his lips.

His hearts stings as he watched them, hand in hand, staring adoringly at one another and she's smiling that smile he thought she had reserved for him and him alone. He swallows back the lump crawling up his throat, his hands tightening around the object in his hand. He makes a little adjustment, a little turn to the right and then another to the left, zooming on the boy's lips. He's trying to spot a trace of lipstick on the very edges but he comes up short and he turns to her, trying to see if her lipstick's smudged and much to his frustration, he can find nothing but a perfectly applied deep red that he's positive smells like cherries.

Tina's gaze flickers back and forth between the blonde haired boy and the two they shouldn't have been, but it seemed they had every right to be, spying on. She can see the anger on his covered features, his jaw is clenched and she's worried that the thick plastic in his hold is going to break like glass in a few moments if he doesn't look away.

She isn't sure why but she starts feeling guilty when he eyes land on the pair in front of them, but at the same time she feels disappointed. She considers the possibility of what would have happened had she not informed him of the front door opening, knowing his nose would have been in his comic book's pages until she told him to look away. But that quickly turns into a question of why anyone would want to do this to him in the first place, and what he had done to deserve such treatment. Her placing a timid hand on his shoulder causes him to look away from the scene unfolding before him, and she visibly tenses when his dark and hard eyes met with her soft and apologetic ones in a silent exchange.

He relaxes just a little when her hand starts rubbing his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, his hands lowering and his fingers loosening, the binoculars soon dropping to the floor of the car with a soft thud. He sighs heavily, shutting his eyes as he sunk into his seat, his left hand reaching up to take hold of hers, seeking some kind of reassurance.

She stays silent and lets him hold her hand, he's thankful she isn't trying to butter up the truth with false hope. They both know it isn't going to be okay, it isn't ever going to be okay. They sit in silence as the cheating couple go their separate ways, the two figures in the car not even noticing and that's only because they honestly didn't care any longer. "I should have known," he finally breathes out.

She isn't quite sure what to say so she remains quiet, her gaze set on his closed eyelids, preparing herself to look into them and tell them all the things she doesn't truly know how to let out in the open air. He takes her lack of response as a chance to rant about all his frustrations. "She played me like a damn fool, because that's exactly what I am. The need for space, the 'I don't really feel up for a date today, maybe next time?'s, the way she would just push me away the minute I tried to kiss her." He purses his lips into a thin line, fighting back tears and knowing full-well that he was close to losing. "A fucking fool."

"She's going to come running back to you, you know." She says casually and she smiles at the throaty laugh he gives her.

"It's a vicious cycle, she goes off with Finn and Rachel goes off with someone else, Finn gets jealous, ditches Quinn, goes back to Rachel until she annoys the shit out of him, he dumps her, and we're right back at the beginning." He's wiping away a tear falling down his cheek when he opens his eyes.

"You left me out of that little circle."

"It's not like you're going to let this happen again, and besides, I wouldn't let you make the same mistake a third time."

His hands are rampaging through the glove compartment on a mission and she realizes he probably didn't hear what she just said but she shrugs it off, instead giving into her curiosity and asking, "What'cha doooin'?" The sound of his laughter is welcomed into her ears with open arms and it causes her to smile brightly. He pulls out a bottle with a brownish liquid within in, and she thinks the smell of it is leaking out of the plastic because she's already getting woozy. "Well, _Isabella_, I think your new job deserves a toast."

"What job?"

"Bodyguard of my heart." The smirk on his lips seems so out of place with his haircut and baby blue eyes. But she decides that she likes it, she _really_ likes it.

Her nose crinkled up in disapproval but the smile never leaves her face. "I prefer warrior."

"Warrior of my heart?" He asked skeptically. There's a pause before they both shake their heads at the way it rings in their ears.

"So bodyguard it is the-"

She blames it all on his smirk and the faint smell of whiskey in the air because she would never consciously kiss a boy who had just seen his girlfriend kiss another boy, she was never that girl. It's awkward and the angle's uncomfortable, her thighs resting on the edge of the seat as her legs try their hardest to make it over to his side of the vehicle, without her moving too much. His lips are moving in rhythm with hers and he can sort feel his hand clutching onto her waist for dear life but he doesn't know what the hell's going on.

At the back of his mind he sees blonde hair and a cheerleading uniform so he opens his eyes to see if he was dreaming up the entire night just to find that he was where he wanted to be twenty minutes before, and his eyes are greeted by brunette bangs with a blue steak running down just off the side with eyes clamped shut tightly, smoky black eye-shadow reaching up to knitted eyebrows. He takes it all in, sighing in satisfaction as he comes to terms with what exactly was going on.

They were kissing each for no apparent reason. And it felt ten times better than it sounded.

He releases the bottle in his hand and when his now free hand helps her straddle his lap, he realizes there's no way they can blame this on alcohol when it was over but it doesn't really stop him or cause him to pull away, because he probably won't regret it at all. Her hands find their way into his hair and make quick work of ruffling it up. Darting his tongue out to swipe along her bottom lip earns him a moan in reward and access past her lips and he thinks he tastes vanilla and mint on every inch of her mouth and when her tongue presses itself up against his, everything suddenly becomes a blur.

It's a game of playful dominance and he's easily winning because she's positive no one's ever kissed her with such such urgency while still being capable of being gentle and all she wants to do in drown herself in the feeling, but there's a part of her that doesn't want this to become a one sided affair so she presses her hips down a little more firmly and when he pulls away from her with a sharp gasp of air she thinks she's taken it too far. His eyes are growing darker but she can stop little spots of hesitance that are slowly growing more and more visible so she rolls her hips and bites back her smirk when she can feel him against her bare thigh through the fabric of his jeans.

"I'm sorry," her breathless apology is laced with false innocence and he just knows this is a challenge.

"No harm done," he reassures her when he finally evens out his breathing, his hands slowly making their way down from the curve of her waist to the netted ruffles of her black dress that were doing a very poor job of covering enough of her thighs. Her forehead rests against his and as the warm air from her parted lips hits his cheek; he knows they're both goners.

Hands are sliding up unwanted material and those same hands soon start slipping down between her legs, ignoring the silent urge to tease her until she's begging for something more and writhing above him because he can't wait any longer than she can.

"Your hands are quite soft." She points out in a calm tone, trying not to give away the fact that she's practically burning for his touch. His eyebrows raise in surprise at her comment before he chuckles lowly, fingers hooking around the lace bands of her unseen underwear. "Your thighs are quite milky." He says in passing before crashing his lips to hers with a groan as he pulled his only obstacle down as they could go, internally cursing their position when he wasn't able to get them to her knees.

Her tongue swirled around his in bliss, her legs moving as far apart as they could get before the waistband of her panties were digging into her skin painfully. She positions her hands on on the side of his arms, sliding them down as he slid his hand further up her thigh as she clutched onto his hands the moment his hand cupped her firmly. Their lips separate with a wet pop and her head lulls backwards as his thumb slowly makes its way to clit, circling the swelling bud in a pace that she found was too slow. She whined as he pressed against it, her hips canting into his touch while he busied the rest of himself by latching his lips onto her neck.

Her breathes as turning into short pants as they move in time with one another, falling into a satisfying pattern; circling around her nerves caused her to emit a soft moan, he'd press against her and her back would arch, he'd continue circling and she'd roll her hips in search of more friction but he would remove his thumb and she'd whimper as her way of getting him to start again and so it went. It was one vicious cycle he wouldn't mind repeating, but the moisture gathering in his palm told him to go against his wants and try fulfilling her needs.

A single digit entered her with ease as his thumb never ceased its planned motions, and she clenched her walls around him as a way to get him in deeper. He trained his tongue up along the column of her neck and he pulled back once he reached her jaw line, taking in the sight of her gnawing at her lip to keep herself as silent as possible. He wasn't about to give her the chance to.

"Fuck," she murmured the moment his second finger slid into her, and all he could do was moan in agreement at how good it felt to have her around a part of him, to see her hair cascading down to his knees with her head tilted back as she gripped onto his arms as her cheeks colored a furious red. It was slow and sensual at first on his part, and she was always just a little faster with her thrusts. He watched her with lust filled and darkened eyes as she swallowed back moans and muttered words that he could barely catch, even though most of them were nothing but curses and calls for a God that probably wouldn't want to be a part of what they were currently doing. He gradually gave into her body's pleas and quicken his pace, dampening his dried out lips with his tongue as she breathed through his nose, trying to concentrate on what he was doing for her and not what she was doing to him. Her movements became more and more erratic and he started to wish he had taken her dress off before they started because the tightness of her dress against her chest and the way her upper body is moving back and forth and teasing his imagination and he knows the thought of her bare chest is going to be stuck in his dreams for a long time afterwards.

When he scissored and curled his fingers, the pads of his fingers hitting against the rough patch of flesh within her with every one of her uneven and reckless thrusts was what finally pushed her over the edge. She struggled to get his name out, stammering on the 'S' before eventually giving up and settling for moaning in approval instead, riding out her orgasm until her arousal was not longer enough to stop her from being consumed by exhaustion.

She lay limply in his arms when he finally pulled his fingers out of her heat, bringing them up to his lips and licking off the sticky substance with a smirk. Even with her hooded eyes, she couldn't miss it. She was certain she was in love with that smirk, in and out of her dazed and sexually satisfied state. \

"That was one heck of a celebratory party," he said smugly, a hint of his southern accent coming through. She lazily slapped his arm as she buried her head in his neck, a smile gracing her lips.

"Shut up." She mumbled into his skin. He chuckled, remaining silent for a moment.

"So… Are we dating now or…?"

"Shut up." She repeated with a warning hidden behind her words.

"But-"

"It's the only way I'm going to protect your heart, isn't it?"

Sam simply smiled, sliding her underwear back up her legs and then wrapping his arms securely around her waist, pulling her closer to him. As his eyes fall onto Quinn's front door, his heart stings just a little but he has a feeling it won't hurt much for very long, he has a feeling the girl in his arms is going to take care of that soon enough.

"And we have to change code names; calling you the Human Torch after this wouldn't feel right."

"But, _Susan-_"

"Sam, no."

He sighs heavily, tilting his head to look at her.

"I'll be the Jason to your Alex then."

She cracks a smile but says nothing, nuzzling her nose against his neck affectionately as her eyes fluttered closed.

"As long as I don't have to wear orange."


End file.
